Don't Shoot, I'm Only the Piano Player
by SweenyG
Summary: Pride's on tour with the Roadmasters, but they aren't exactly playing in the best places. While in the Florida Keys, they run into trouble. Who is that mysterious woman who saves the day? Prody action, oh yeah.


**A/N: I know I have no business starting another story with two PerSalle tales waiting to be updated, but when an idea knocks on my noggin' I gotta answer the door. This is a Prody tale. 'Cause did you see the way he looked at her at the end of the finale? Damn!**

 **Disclaimer: NCIS:New Orleans, its plots, characters, etc. belongs to the copyright holders, ie, producers and CBS. I have no claims and make no profit.**

 **Chapter One**

As the band finished the second set, NCIS Senior Agent Dwayne Pride wiped the sweat off his face with a threadbare t-shirt. He was perspiring so much, his fingers slid off the keyboard. After sopping up, he took a long, slow swig of his Corona. It had long gone warm and flat, but fit in with the oppressive atmosphere of this dive in the Florida Keys, appropriately named "Smudge."

He had been on tour with The Roadmasters for one week, and every day felt like an endurance test. They performed at night from 9 p.m. until 2 a.m. Then, they were up and on the road the next day by 9 a.m. Once they arrived at the next stop, they checked in bland motels that all looked the same and rehearsed for hours. He had played a lot over the years, but It had been decades since he traveled with a band, and he felt each year in his back and wrists.

He was having the time of his life.

There was no paperwork, no dead victims, no families to console, no suspects to interrogate, no forensic science that made his brain ache. He didn't have to worry if his next confrontation with a bad dude or dudette would be his last.

He also didn't have the duty of overseeing his junior agents, his "work children." True, they were highly trained and skilled federal investigators. But, they were also comparatively young and each was foolhardy in their own way. Making sure they stayed safe was a responsibility that lay heavily on his conscience.

Chris LaSalle had a background in vice, with quick reflexes. He was in excellent physical shape, yet he often pursued a suspect without considering the consequences. Sonja Percy was a masterful undercover agent, with a chameleon ability to blend in with any gang or drug ring. But, she blatantly disregarded orders and needed lessons in teamwork.

Then there was Meredith Brody. Merri. She troubled him most of all. The archetypal agent, she possessed a sharp mind and an innate intuition that had saved lives many times. But, the past few months had been hell. First, she had found out that her twin sister had not been the victim of a random drunk driver, but had been purposely murdered by her fiance's father for the sake of his business. That discovery had lead to chronic insomnia and frequent bar hopping to dull the pain. Just as her funk seemed to be clearing, she met John Russo, a handsome DHS agent on the rise. The two had an instant chemistry like gin and jazz. They had spent only one night together, when Merri began to suspect that her Mr. Wonderful was a homicidal terrorist.

Unfortunately, she was right.

All the agents had made it through Russo's planned attack physically unscathed. But, Pride and Percy came perilously close to being blown up along with half of New Orleans. LaSalle had to watch and plead with the Coast Guard not to fire on them until they could disarm the bomb.

Still, the team was put on administrative leave so quickly, they didn't have time to decompress and talk about the psychological scars - not that they would admit having any. But, after 25 years in law enforcement, Pride had learned the value of talking about fears and feelings. He paid for that education with his marriage.

Unfortunately, Merri had suffered most of all. Russo caught on, ambushed her and tied her up. When his attempt to set off the bomb remotely failed, she managed to stun him and a fight ensured. They both turned to shoot. Merri was a second quicker.

A day later, she was cleared of any wrongdoing. At least, she had the smarts to know she wasn't OK and needed to get away As soon as Pride announced the leave, she headed for Florida. Pride wondered if she could be near right now. He had texted her with his schedule, but hadn't heard back. He figured it was best to let her be.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

This was the first time in a long time he was in a band as a single man, and everyone seemed to think he should start acting like one.

Loretta had whispered in his ear when they said goodbye. "Now, Dwayne, use this time to relax, like naked with a woman relax." He pulled away and gave her a look, she winked, "Doctor's orders."

When he opened his ditty bag the first night, he found a 12-pack of Trojans, extra sensitive. If he'd dusted for prints, he knew they'd match those of certain agent from Alabama.

Even Wolfman Washington told him "hey man, loosen up! Whatever happens behind the dumpsta', stays behind the dumpsta'."

Pride surprised himself when that comment lead to an instant fantasy of a carefree fling in a dark alley. Not that that was ever his style. Besides, he was too old to start - he had to consider his back.

Still, he really missed sex, not just the physical part. He longed for an emotional connection like he had once had. As far as he could remember it had been Linda, only Linda. There were a few before her, but once he met his future wife; he didn't need or want anyone else. It was the way he was wired.

Now that his future wife had become his ex-wife, he had to face facts and admit that they were over. He had to find someone and build a new connection or remain celibate for the rest of his life.

Nah, he'd never be that old.

 **To be continued**


End file.
